I felt her sigh. I felt the release. I felt her let go.Kissing her tummy again, and teasing her with a little lick, I pulled her over by the shower, s...ripped and threw my clothes back into the bedroom on the floor, then guided her into the shower, turning on the water, and not touching her yet, showed her the different things I had for cleaning up in there and started to wash myself. I watched as she pulled the blue poof off the hook, put a squirt of Ocean Breeze scented soap on it and went to. She’s wearing a standard ship jumpsuit, the navy blue that designates a civilian, but despite her entirely generic attire I can tell immediately what she once was, a slave of Aghara-Penthay, because Beyala has the mark. The slave mark – an indelible sign that a woman has been processed on the surface of that vile planet.Beyala’s imprint reminds me of dark make-up, eyeliner or perhaps a tattoo, swirling patterns that emerge from the edge of her right eye to decorate the right side of her face.. More

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